Unexpected
by queensseuq
Summary: After Bill and Fleur's wedding goes awry and Hermione gets separated from Harry and Ron, she spends the next year with the Weasley family, getting unexpectedly close with the wrong Weasley brother.
1. The Lynx

The ceremony had been beautiful and the reception was certainly doing its part to keep the joyful atmosphere alive.

After Viktor sat at their table, Ron surprised Hermione when he asked her to dance. She, of course, knew it was only because he did not care for Viktor, but was pleased nonetheless.

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at Harry (or Barny Weasley as he was tonight), who was engaged in what looked to be a tense conversation with Viktor. Sighing, she looked back towards Ron, who was glaring at Krum.

"I don't know what you see in that guy 'Mione."

She snorted derisively. "You worshipped him until the Tournament. Or did you forget how you drooled over him when he first walked into the Great Hall?"

"Well, that was before I knew what a wanker he was." He clenched his jaw and hissed the next words out, barely discernible over the music. "He looks at you like a piece of meat."

She rolled her eyes at that. Viktor had never been disrespectful or indicated that he valued her only for her looks, but she wasn't about to waste her breath. "Well, he's not the one dancing with me right now, so I'm inclined to say you have nothing to worry about." She shot Ron a shy smile and stifled the urge to giggle when the tops of his ears burned red. Hermione longed to close the space between them, but decided she would rather not ruin the moment. So, she settled for letting his warm hand rest on her hip and tried to commit the feeling to memory to relive another day.

They filled the next few minutes with idle chat and awkward swaying that was barely passable as dancing before Hermione had to go take a seat. She scanned the room for Harry and pulled up a seat next to him when she finally found him.

"I simply can't dance anymore," she said, taking off a shoe to rub her foot. "Ron's gone looking to find more butterbeers. It's a bit odd, I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it looked like they'd been arguing—" She dropped off suddenly, noticing Harry's expression. She lowered her voice. "Harry, are you okay?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the lynx that fell through the canopy atop the dance floor. The patronus began to speak in a low, deep voice she recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt's.

_"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

* * *

Hermione and Harry jumped to their feet, along with the other guests, wands ready, everyone seemingly in a trance —until someone screamed.

Cloaked and masked figures appeared, as if out of nowhere, and began firing in every direction. The two friends sprang into action, cutting their way through the hysterical crowd. Cracks of disapparation sounded throughout the air. Hermione frantically searched for Ron, attempting to yell his name over the commotion while flinging hexes at anyone who got too close to her or Harry. Panic bubbled inside her when she saw Harry dart away from her and she wished she'd thought to grab Harry's hand to avoid getting separated.

"Hermione!" She looked in the direction of her name to see Harry, a red-faced Ron at his side, holding his hand out to her. She choked on her relief and lunged towards them, nearly knocking over the frantic guest who darted in front of her as she was about to latch onto Harry. She felt the air pull around her as she grabbed for him once more and heard a pop as they disappeared… right before she reached them.

She fell to her knees in shock. The noise around her faded to a drone as she went numb. She had no idea where they would've gone and no way to get in contact with them. A scream of frustration and disbelief clotted her throat and she struggled to fight it down.

She was pulled back to reality when a spell whizzed over her head. The majority of the guests had gone, leaving the brave few behind to fight alongside the Order. Another spell flew past her, barely missing her ear. Her head whipped around and, upon seeing her attacker, she was filled with rage and she sliced her wand through the air with a silent _diffindo_.

She allowed herself a shameful moment of satisfaction as the masked figure sank to their knees and blood began to seep into the ground. She hardly had a second to register exactly what she'd done when she saw another curse barreling straight towards her chest.

"_Protego_!" She cast her shield charm and quickly followed it with a stunning spell. Hermione glanced around and saw their numbers dwindling, as Death Eaters overpowered the Order and took them alive. Bill and Fleur were side-by-side, dueling three masked figures. She noticed many of the other Order members holding their own in their battles, briefly noting as Fred and George incapacitated one man each, twice their size. Hermione finally ran across the floor to where she saw Ginny attempting to hold off a large wizard, but slowly losing the upper hand.

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise, only for a moment, upon seeing the older witch sprinting towards her, dodging hexes and casting her own, but it was enough. She was knocked off her feet.

"GINNY!" Hermione cried. She doubled her pace and aimed her wand. "_CONFRINGO_!"

She watched the Death Eater fly to the ground and then slid onto the floor next to her friend. She was getting ready to ask the youngest Weasley if she was okay when Ginny took her wand and aimed it directly in Hermione's face. She felt a look of confusion cross her features.

"You shouldn't be here," Ginny whispered.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Ron stumbled to the ground, and fought the urge to vomit.

"Geez, 'Mione, couldn't have made the landing a bit softer?" He glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings, and turned to face his friends. "Where... wait, Harry, where's Hermione?"

Harry's whisper was barely audible. "I- I thought that... I felt her grab my hand..."

Ron felt his face pale with realization. Hermione was still at the Burrow. Surrounded by Death Eaters. Alone.

"Ron." He barely heard Harry over the ringing in his ears. They needed to go back for her. They needed her. _He_ needed her. She was the voice of reason, their guide.

"RON!" Harry grabbed his shoulder, shaking him out of his fog. "We have to go back for her!" he said, echoing Ron's thoughts. A hasty agreement almost slipped past Ron's lips, but something made him pause. It wasn't safe. Hermione was with the Order and she would want them to go on. His heart lurched at the thought, but he knew he was right.

"We can't. We've got to do this alone."

* * *

**A/N (2020):** **Heavy changes in all the chapters! So sorry! I'm reposting all the chapters one by one with the updates. Happy New Year!**


	2. Alvilda Weasley

Hermione jolted awake on the couch in the Burrow. Ginny, whose shoulder she'd been resting on, was sitting stiffly, bound with what looked to be an _incarcerous _spell. Hermione sat up slowly, wincing as sharp pain ripped across the skin on her face. She looked around and saw Fred and George, both looking terribly worn out and torn to hell, sitting closely on her other side, similarly bound. Glancing down at her own hands, she found them to be tied as well.

"Oi! Ugly! You're finally up." The remark came from a Death Eater she hadn't noticed sulking in the corner of the room. He approached them with a dangerous urgency to his gait. "What's your name?"

Hermione stammered, wracking her brain for a name she could use.

Thankfully, Fred piped up. "That's Alvilda Weasley. Cousin." The Death Eater looked doubtfully at Hermione, who nodded eagerly, then grimaced as another bout of pain rippled across her face.

He grunted in response. "Filthy blood traitors. I swear you lot breed like rats. Kill one, a dozen more pop up." He looked down at them in disgust and spit on the floor. "Let's go little ginger, with me," he said, crooking his finger at Ginny. She placed a gentle hand on Hermione's knee before getting up and following the masked man and, though she looked at her reassuringly, Hermione could see the fear in her eyes. Hermione leaned into Fred and whispered quietly, "What is going on?" She was afraid of the answer.

Fred set his mouth in a grim line. "There were too many. At the wedding. Some got away, some got taken, and some..." he trailed off.

"They're interrogating us for information on Harry's whereabouts," George finished in a hushed tone.

Hermione nodded slightly, sadly. "They broke the wards." It wasn't a question, but Fred bobbed his head once with affirmation. Hermione let out a heavy sigh and then followed with, "How in the world did I pass for a Weasley?"

George leaned around with the hint of a spark in his eye. "Because of your beautiful red hair, of course." Fred smiled softly and shook his head.

"George, please! Not now," Hermione whispered.

Fred smacked his twin's arm and explained. "Ginny was afraid you'd be recognized so she hit you with a stinging hex."

"That explains the pain."

"And the glamour charm for the hair was, uh, actually Fleur's idea." Hermione lifted her bound hands to her hair and pulled it over her shoulder to see that she was, indeed, sporting the telltale Weasley red in place of her typically brown hair. "She managed to perform it before they took her and Bill away."

She let her hair drop back over her shoulder. "Took them away? Why don't they just kill us and get it over with?" The resentment was audible in her tone. No, she didn't want to die—she didn't want any of them to die—but certainly it would save the Death Eaters the trouble of watching over them, and it made more sense in her mind.

Now George answered. "They're _interrogating_ us Hermione. They want Harry," he said solemnly. As if to punctuate his statement, a muffled scream rang out around the house, making her flinch.

"We're next," she whispered, dropping her hand back into her lap. It wasn't a question, but a statement. Fred nodded sadly.

"Mum and Dad have been in there all night." He exhaled shakily.

Hermione's heart broke for the Weasley family then. They'd been torn apart and strewn all over the place, on a night that should've been a joyous family occasion. Who knew if they'd ever see their siblings again?

It was then she really noticed what bad shape the twins were in. Fresh bruises on George's arms. A weeping cut underlining Fred's eye. She tenderly raised her fingers to his face to examine it, not missing the way he flinched at her touch.

"I'm sorry this is happening," she whispered, placing a hand on Fred's arm. A beat of heavy silence passed. Then she gasped.

"What about Harry and Ron? Do you know where they went?" she asked hopefully.

It was George who shook his head this time. "They're probably the whole reason we're alive though. They think we'll be in contact with them I'm sure." He raked a hand through his hair. "I just hope they aren't that stupid without you."

"We disguised the family ghoul to look like Ron, though, and made it look like he'd got a nasty bout of Spattergroit. No one will go close enough to him to check if it's really Ron so, for now, they think he's here and won't be looking for him." Fred shrugged. "It's not much. But it's something."

Hermione nodded slightly reassured, but still worried. She supposed if Voldemort suspected Harry was alone, he might not put as much manpower to his capture, allowing the boys a better chance should they encounter any Death Eaters.

They sat in tense silence for what seemed like hours. Every scream or cry echoed eerily through the house and she fought the urge to cover her ears. Just so she wouldn't have to hear them suffer.

Eventually, the same man who escorted the youngest Weasley towards the back of the house reentered the room and gestured for Hermione to follow him. "C'mon ugly, let's go." She shot an apprehensive glance back at the boys and was saddened by their helpless expressions. As if there was anything they could've done to prevent what was about to happen.

She made her way through the house, his wand on her back, taking note of its terrible condition. While just hours ago it had been the cleanest she'd ever seen it, it now looked like people on the hunt had ransacked it looking for something… or rather, someone, she supposed, though they can't have expected to find Harry here after the fiasco at the wedding.

They made their way to the top of the house, past the disheveled bedrooms and horrible aftermath of the evening's events, up into the attic, where she was roughly shoved up the ladder. The attic, usually filled with boxes and where the Weasley family ghoul typically resided, was hauntingly empty. She started when the attic door slammed shut behind the man.

Her fingers itched to reach for her wand, but she needed to maintain her cover and would hardly be able to get it anyways with the ropes that were currently digging ridges into the sensitive flesh on her wrists. _How should she play this? _

The man sauntered over to her menacingly.

"Please, I don't know anything," she began. "I was only in town for—" a rough slap cut her off and knocked her to the floor. Although everything in her burned to fight back, she knew an innocent bystander would not have the nerve to do so. So she began to sob instead. "Please, sir, I will give you anything you want!" she wailed. "What do you want from me?" This time, a sharp kick to the stomach robbed her of her breath. She gasped for air.

"Shut the bloody hell up." Though he still wore his mask, she could hear the sneer in his voice. "Where is—"

She let out another piercing cry. "Please, please, I'm begging you! Just let me go, my parents are expecting me!" Another kick met her abdomen. Fury simmered beneath her skin and, before she could think twice, she grabbed his legs, knocking him to his back. She scrambled for the attic door, but crumpled back to the ground before making it even halfway.

"_CRUCIO_!" Hermione fell in on herself, unable to focus on anything but the white-hot pain searing through her body. Waves of it sliced down her spine and her head felt as though it was about to explode. Her brain pulsed against her skull. The very real screams ripping through her body were unfamiliar to her. She lost track of every aspect of reality but the excruciating agony coursing through her veins. Any air that managed to fight its way past her spasming windpipe sat like lead in her chest. She was choking and drowning and burning all at once.

When the pain finally subsided, she still could feel its effects slamming on her temples. She let out genuine cries this time.

"_Silencio_!" Hermione continued to sob, but no sound came out. The man craned his wand at her with warning. "You listen to me, you little Weasley bitch. Another move like that and the next time your parents see you will be in a casket. Now, I'm going to ask you some questions. You will quit your bloody crying and answer them for me. Nod if you understand."

Hermione sniffed and took several deep breaths. He jabbed his wand at her threateningly when she didn't respond. Regaining some semblance of composure, she widened her eyes at attempted innocence and nodded rapidly, not wanting to endure the curse again.

"_Sonorus_. Now, what is your name?"

Hermione fumbled for the name Fred had given earlier. "Alvilda. Alvilda Weasley."

"Where is Harry Potter?"

"I'm… I don't…" she stumbled, pushing herself up onto her elbows.

"_Reducto!"_ Hermione squeaked as a box by her head exploded into ash. "Where. Is. Harry. Potter," he enunciated each word.

"Please, I am just in town for the wedding, I've never even met Harry Potter, he wasn't there tonight!"

He pointed his wand at her again.

"Please, please! No! I swear, do legilimency on me, do whatever you want, just please not the cruciatus curse again," she begged.

"What about his friends?"

"I don't know, I don't know! I don't even know his friends! I'd never even met this side of the family before today, except for Uncle Arthur!"

He narrowed his eyes at her and crouched down to look into her eyes. "If I find out you lied to me I'll personally wipe out the entire Weasley family. You're all a bunch cockroaches. And _one_ of you knows where Potter is." Hermione fought the urge to spit in his face. His exaggerated self-importance was enough to make her stomach turn.

The Death Eater began to turn away from her and then paused. "We will find Potter and we will kill him and anyone else who gets in our way. Consider where your loyalties lie." And with that closing sentiment, he disapparated, leaving her to sweat in the copper-heavy air that sat like smog in the attic.

It was then that the day's events finally hit her. She was alone. She was with the Weasley family, but she had lost Harry and Ron. Her brother and her… well, she didn't know what exactly her and Ron were at the moment, but the pang of emotion that shot through her when she thought of not seeing him again was gut-wrenching. She collapsed fully onto the floor and let true sobs of anguish wrack her body.

Hours passed. The inky black sky faded to orange with the sunrise. But she couldn't bring herself to move. She knew what torture did to people's minds. And the small degree she'd endured was enough to render her hopeless. She'd always thought herself stronger than this. The shame kept her there more than anything else.

Though she vaguely heard the Weasley's calling for her, she remained there, broken, until the sun was high in the sky, when Fred found her and carried her tenderly back downstairs.

* * *

**A/N: I know in the books they don't kill the Weasleys at this point, so obviously I'm not going to but I was thinking: I understand leaving the core family alone, but why would the Death Eaters leave an estranged cousin alive? They don't know it's Hermione? So, my reasoning is because in the final book, Voldemort says that he doesn't wish to spill magical blood. This might be a load of B.S. he says to make him seem forgiving, but the Weasleys are technically purebloods (though they're seen as traitors), so maybe Death Eaters would leave all of the Weasleys alone. Food for thought. **


	3. Hair Dye

A few days had passed since the wedding and Hermione had barely left Ginny's room. She felt hollow and useless. She didn't belong here and she couldn't show the Weasley's how ruined she was. What right did she have to sulk and moan compared to them?

She tossed restlessly in her bed, night after night, each day the walls inching in a little closer. Aching for some semblance of normalcy, she resolved to finally tear herself from the hauntingly lonely comfort of her own mind and put on a brave face for her second family.

Maybe she'd trick herself into feeling alright again.

* * *

Hermione was vaguely aware of a presence next to her when she woke up the next morning and looked over to see Ginny sleeping fitfully beside her. The young witch looked troubled and Hermione smoothed her hair back from her face and shook her gently.

"Ginny," she whispered. Ginny woke with a start and her eyes darted around fearfully before landing on Hermione's face. "Are you alright?"

The youngest Weasley grimaced awkwardly. "Sorry… I couldn't sleep and you looked like you were having trouble sleeping too, so I just came over to give you some company… I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled comfortingly. "It's really okay, Gin. How are you feeling?"

Ginny's face fell at that. "Honestly," she started, "I'm terrible. We haven't heard from Bill, Charlie, or Percy and now we don't know where Ron and Harry are. I'm glad you're here, but I worry about them without you." Tears began to collect in the corners of her eyes.

While it was true she was having a rough time being separated from the boys, Ginny lost her brothers and her not-really-boyfriend that she was madly in love with. Hermione pulled her close and stroked her hair like her mom used to do for her and let Ginny sob into her shoulder.

She wanted to offer words of comfort, but knew they would be empty lies. Truthfully, she didn't know what would happen to the boys. For a brief, selfish second, she resented them for leaving her. Hot tears of her own burned her throat and she fought to choke them down. She would not break. She tucked her own sadness into a tiny box in the corner of her heart and focused her attention back on the rhythmic rustle of Ginny's hair as she ran her hand through it.

It was much easier to focus on others than to be trapped in her head.

* * *

After Ginny composed herself, the two girls made their way to the dining area, where Molly was busy making breakfast.

"Good morning loves. Breakfast will be ready in a minute. Hermione, dear, it's good to see you up and about. Make yourself at home." Molly threw a smile her way, but it seemed forced.

"Have you heard anything from the boys?" Ginny wrapped her arms around herself, leaning on Hermione for support. She draped an arm around the younger witch.

Mr. Weasley responded distractedly from behind his newspaper. "No, but I've sent them a patronus. It's not safe for them to contact us right now."

"Why?" Hermione responded.

He glanced up from his paper and met Hermione's gaze. "We're being watched." Hermione chastised herself silently. Of course they were being watched.

"But won't they recognize Hermione?" Ginny asked.

Arthur pondered this. "Mm," he grunted in agreement. "Good point, Gin, a glamour charm won't work long term."

"And if something happens and we can't use magic, we don't want her to be caught," Ginny added.

George nodded. "Fred and I can figure something out."

"Oh yes, you'll look even more dazzling when we're finished. And then we can figure out a disguise for Ron and-" Fred dropped off suddenly and the shift in the room was tangible. Arthur's head shot up and Molly excused herself with a whisper and rushed out of the room. Several heavy seconds passed by and Hermione desperately searched for something to say. She wasn't ready to confront this, not here, not in front of all these people who had much more reason to be upset than she.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "So, Fred, you think I'm dazzling?"

The tension left the room like a pent-up sigh and Fred burned red. George snickered at his twin's embarrassment. "You'll hardly look as dazzling as Fred does, brandishing that lovely shade of blush!" Ginny gave a weak laugh and Mr. Weasley looked back down at his paper with a small smile, though it was still tinged with sadness.

"I'm gonna go check on Mum," Fred grumbled. He rose from the table, followed by a lightly mocking George.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Bloody gits, the both of them," she said softly. Hermione grinned in spite of herself and placed a reassuring hand over Ginny's. The younger witch gave her a grateful look and then glanced over at the door where Molly had reentered, eyes red but expression schooled into one of repose.

Figuring she could use the distraction, Hermione said, "Mrs. Weasley, there is something I could use to make me blend in a bit more, but I'll need to go to a muggle shop to retrieve it."

At this, Arthur slammed his paper down, eyes alight. "Excellent! I'll accompany you!" Hermione felt a warm rush of affection bloom in her chest at the excitement of the older Weasley, glad to see some of his spark. She missed Harry and Ron and wished she was with them instead, but supposed she was lucky to be at the Burrow.

"Arthur!" Molly said sternly. "What if something happens here? You need to stay."

Mr. Weasley, looking visibly disappointed, conceded with no argument. There honestly was no arguing with Molly.

"Well, what about me? I can go," Ginny retorted.

Molly turned and placed a hand on her hip. "Absolutely not. I've half a mind to keep Hermione stored away, let alone let both of you out of my sight. It is too dangerous for two young girls to be out and about on their own."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm just as fine going on my own Mrs. Weasley." She honestly thought bringing one of them along would slow her down, but knew the suggestion was a long shot.

Molly scoffed. "Nonsense dear. You'll take one of the twins. Just use the Floo to get as close as you can and you can walk from there." She turned back to breakfast and waved her wand to stir the several pots sitting on the stovetop. "Just make sure to take proper precautions. We don't want anyone to recognize you."

"Actually Mrs. Weasley, I should probably take the car. If they're watching us, they're watching the floo network." Mrs. Weasley smacked a hand to her forehead.

"Of course. I'll have one of the boys drive you into town after breakfast." Gesturing widely at the table she continued, "Take a seat loves, let me set the table and we'll eat."

Molly hesitated when everyone sat and two spots were left empty, though Hermione doubted anyone noticed but her. They shared a knowing look. Molly simply tightened her expression and averted her eyes. It seemed no one was ready to face reality just yet.

* * *

Shortly after breakfast, Hermione pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs, where she saw Fred waiting for her.

"So, I guess you were the lucky one?" Hermione joked. "Did you draw straws?"

Fred wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar expression. "No straws were involved in the decision making process," he assured. Hermione chuckled and then raised her eyebrows when he followed with, "I volunteered."

"Why?" She scrunched up her face. His mouth quirked up in a smirk and he shrugged.

"Cabin fever?" He paused. "Or maybe I just want to spend time with you."

Hermione couldn't help but scoff at that. "Sure, why not." His face lifted into a grin and gestured for her to follow him to the car.

"Be safe!" Molly called after them.

They climbed into the unassuming car (though knowing Mr. Weasley, Hermione was sure he'd doctored this one up much like he had the Ford) and Hermione cast a glamour charm on herself, turning her hair from the faded red of the previous glamour to black and making her nose slightly larger.

"Just in case," she explained. "I'm going to do you next."

"Well, that sounds interesting," Fred winked. Hermione rolled her eyes and got to work changing Fred's telltale red hair into a sandy blonde and plumping his lips.

"Ready?"

* * *

The car ride was relatively uneventful and filled with small talk. Once they arrived in town, they parked away from the town center and walked to the nearest convenient store in comfortable silence the majority of the way, but Fred spoke shortly before they reached the store.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she hummed distractedly. A warm autumn breeze was rustling the first of the fallen leaves and she'd happily watched them dance around with an empty mind.

"How are you really doing?"

"Is that concern I hear in your voice, Fred Weasley?" she smiled, not pulling her eyes from the sidewalk.

"I'm serious." He stopped and grabbed her arm, pulling her to the side and forcing her to face him. "Are you doing alright?" Hermione blushed and looked back at her feet.

She'd never really been with Fred without his twin, and found that he was much more intense without his other half. Although it would usually be a welcome change, she found she was not ready to confront her demons, not in the middle of town, and certainly not with this unfamiliar side of Fred. Not yet. "Everyone is going through a tough time right now, Fred."

He captured her gaze, giving her a meaningful look, and she held it for as long as she dared before nervously laughing it off. Her eyes darted around the street, and she was thankful for the light foot traffic.

"Come on, we're close." She tugged at his arm and then continued ahead of him.

"As artfully as you dodged the question, it remains unanswered," he reminded her, unmoving. Unable to contain herself, she clenched her jaw and furrowed her brows, spinning on her heel to face him.

"Talking about how I _feel_ doesn't change anything!" she yelled. Her volume increased with every word, punctuating with each sentence with a jab of her finger. "It doesn't bring the boys back, it doesn't bring your family back, and it doesn't end this war."

"So that means it doesn't matter?" Fred retorted.

"Yes!" She threw her hands in the air. "That's exactly what it means." She began to walk again, too heated to acknowledge the looks they were receiving from the few people out and about, but was stopped in her tracks.

"Bollocks."

"Ex_cuse_ me?" The words dripped from her tongue.

"We _all_ know how you feel, Hermione. We _all_ lost them," he replied, exasperated. "If you'd just talk to us instead of shutting yourself away, maybe you'd feel better. I'm sure you'd rather be with Harry and Ron-"

"I would, in fact, so if you could please just drop it, I really don't want to talk about it." She rounded on him fully. "You don't know me, Fred Weasley, so I'd appreciate if you stopped lecturing me about what's best for me," she leaned into him and looked him square in the eyes, "and mind your own business."

She stood there for a moment, breathing hard, soaking in the anger that made her feel more alive than she had all week. But she faltered when Fred's hardened expression melted into one she wasn't expecting to see: pain.

She pulled away from him and curled her hands into fists at her side. "I'm so sorry." Her gaze fell to her feet.

"You're right," he said. She looked back up at him as he shook his head, clearing away the sad expression that had made her heart stop. "It is none of my business. We just hated seeing you so…" he fumbled for the right word.

"Broken?" she offered. That was certainly how she felt. Shattered.

He nodded. "But that isn't an excuse for me goading you. We're all handling this differently."

An apology lodged itself in her throat, but she before she could cough it out, Fred cleared his throat and awkwardly ruffled her hair.

"Let's go get that shampoo."

"It's hair dye, Fred."

"Why would you want your hair to die?"

"It's not—nevermind."


	4. Midnight

At night, Hermione let herself feel everything she was afraid to feel when the sun was out.

It had now only been a week since the wedding, but it felt like a lifetime. She replayed it in her mind again.

She thought of how the last time she saw Harry, he was disguised as a chubby little muggle, and how she didn't know when she'd get to see his messy hair and kind eyes again. She thought of his hand reaching out to her, but disappearing before she could reach it. She still wasn't sure why they left without her and it was torture not knowing where they were. Not knowing if they were okay or how she could help. That didn't stop her from researching as much about horcruxes as she could, but with no way to communicate with them, she felt useless no matter how much she found out about the cursed objects... which wasn't much.

She thought of how Ron asked her to dance, out of jealousy, sure, but they danced nonetheless. She thought of his hand on her waist and how his face lit up when he laughed. She thought of how scared she was when she couldn't find him after the Death Eaters attacked. She remembered his face while she was running towards them, filled with relief and fear and something else she couldn't quite place that made her heart skip a beat.

She thought of how she felt so alone.

She began to tremble and the walls seemed to suffocate her. Sadness and frustration constricted her throat but, damnit, the tears wouldn't spill over this time. Although she'd wanted to keep her feelings locked up tight, she thought she might feel better if all of those emotions would just come flooding out. But the dam she built up was strong and not cracking. Peeking over the side of the bed to where Ginny slept soundly on the floor, Hermione sighed, slowly eased herself out from under the covers, grabbed her wand, and tiptoed out of the room.

_"Lumos," _she whispered. She was making her way slowly down the stairs and into the living room, grimacing when the floor groaned under her weight, when she heard a noise in the kitchen. Putting out her light, she peered around the corner, ready to attack. Her brows furrowed at the sight before her.

"Fred?" She stepped fully around the corner.

"What the—"

Hermione let out an unexpected laughed as he shot up in surprise and banged his head on the fridge. "Careful!"

"Bloody hell, Hermione! You nearly gave me a heart attack," he panted, slamming the door and spinning around to face her. She laughed again. "What are you doing down here, it's the middle of the night?"

"Well, what are _you_ doing down here?" she asked in response.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, holding up a sandwich.

"Typical."

He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. Better this than raiding the liquor cabinet," he said dryly. Hermione's jaw tensed with sorrow. She'd never expected to see Fred this way. He was always the more carefree of the twins and it hurt her to see him so affected. But she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. War had that influence on people. She couldn't help but feel guilty about her outburst at the store the other day, and how much it must've affected him. Fred cleared his throat. "You never answered me. What are _you_ doing up?"

Hermione tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just felt like I needed to get out of the house. Think. Get some air, I guess."

She struggled to make out his expression; the only light was coming from the moon. Fred tilted his head at her and she felt like he could read her mind. She silently thanked the darkness for hiding the blush that crept into her cheeks at his unwavering gaze.

"Actually, I might just—" she started, beginning to turn back to the stairs.

"Do you want some company?" he offered, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Um, I—You don't… It's—" she stammered.

He chuckled heartily. "It's a simple yes or no, I just thought you might like a big, strong man to accompany you." He joked. She could just barely make out his wink in the dim light and she thought she could smack him for making the comment.

"For your information, I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own," she retorted haughtily.

"So, no?"

She opened her mouth to say, '_no, in fact, I don't need your company, I'm fine on my own,'_ but instead hesitated and found herself saying, "I suppose that might be nice."

* * *

Hermione seemed as surprised as Fred when she said yes to his invitation.

"Oh, okay," he said, wide eyes betraying his surprise. "Well, come on then," he continued, recovering from his shock with a friendly smile.

He wrapped his sandwich in a paper towel and placed it in the fridge. "You're not going to finish that?" she asked. He chuckled good-naturedly.

"Guess I'm not hungry after all." Making his way to the door, he gestured for Hermione to follow him.

They stepped out into the brisk night air blowing through the garden. They made idle small talk for a while and Fred was distinctly aware of how their shoulders occasionally brushed together as they walked in wide circles across the uneven grass. He had to keep himself from staring at her while she talked.

Although she had been hovering around his peripheral since he was a third year, he had never spent time with her like this, and he found he enjoyed it quite a bit more than he probably should. He shifted their path towards the orchard where Fred saw a tree that had fallen over in the skirmish a few days ago. He walked over to it and took a seat, welcoming Hermione to sit next to him.

He saw what he thought to be hesitation cross over her face before giving in and waving at him to make room for her.

Once she settled in, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, taking a deep breath. Without looking at him, she said "Thank you for walking with me."

"Of course."

She fumbled with her hands for a bit. "I'm sorry for what I said the other day," she finally said, meeting his eyes.

Fred frowned. "Don't worry about it."

Sighing, she shook her head. "No, I was mean and loud and out of line."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I understand." Minutes ticked by with only the sounds of the breeze and their breathing breaking the silence. When Hermione spoke again, Fred jumped.

* * *

"You know, when I first met Harry, I was telling him all about what I'd taught myself about magic and Hogwarts." Her eyes fluttered shut at the memory. "Of course, Harry didn't care and Ron only thought me a know-it-all. I had the feeling that they didn't care for me much, but I couldn't help but want to be around them." She laughed bitterly, recalling the naivety of her younger self. Her smile fell. "And then I heard Ron saying awful things about me and I thought for sure I would spend the entirety of my school career alone.

"But by some funny twist of fate, they're now my two closest friends and I just can't imagine living without them."

"And now you're here," Fred finished. She opened her eyes and looked up at the sky.

"And they're not."

A hush settled over the pair once more, with Hermione letting her eyelids fall shut again. It helped her think. She turned their past few conversations over in her head and decided she appreciated his insistence at making sure she was alright. She didn't _need_ him to, but Harry was typically the only person she ever talked to about stuff like this and, as they'd established, he was unavailable at the moment. And it did actually make her feel better, although she would never admit that to him.

* * *

"Thank you, Fred."

His head jerked towards her in surprise. "For what?"

She stiffened where she sat. "I guess this is has just been a welcome distraction."

"From?"

Hermione cracked her eyes open and turned to look at him. "I don't know. Everything, I suppose."

"You don't know? How very un-Hermione of you." He'd meant to ease her tension, but instead she let out an exasperated breath.

"Nevermind," she clipped out. He rolled his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry." She stole another glance at him but didn't speak. "Come on, I know you probably don't think I'm capable of being serious but we're…friends, wouldn't you say?"

She leaned forward. Nibbling her lip in what he hoped was consideration, she looked into her lap, where she was twisting her hands.

"Hey." He mentally chastised himself for what he was about to do and how it would make everything so much more complicated for him. But he held his breath to quiet down his heart, which was hammering in his chest, and reached out to gently tilt her to head to face him anyways. He met her with the most genuine gaze he could muster. "You can talk to me."

She nodded and he dropped his hand from her face and exhaled heavily.

"Don't look at me when I'm talking though," she ordered. He laughed humorlessly and held his hands up.

"Whatever you need." He meant it.

He let his eyes slide shut. He heard her shifting uncomfortably before she finally spoke.

"I guess… I'm confused. Things have already been so stressful with everything going on and then with what happened at the wedding..." she trailed off and he could hear her fiddling with her clothes. "I really resent the boys for leaving me here, but I know I should be thankful I'm not out there, in danger, or at least not as much, and instead I'm here with a loving family." He heard her sigh shakily. "It seems… wrong… for me to feel that way, when you guys lost them too but…" she sniffed.

He could feel her steam running out so, he tried to find the right words to say, but figured saying nothing might be what she needed more. Eyes still closed, he offered her a hand in support and warmed when she took it tentatively. Sure enough, she began to speak again.

"I know Harry is like a brother to you, and Ron is actually your brother, but, for me, Harry is the only brother I've ever known and with Ron it's…"

Fred squeezed his eyes shut tighter, quashing the twinge of jealousy that bloomed in his stomach. They all suspected she had liked the youngest Weasley boy, but hearing it from her felt like a knife through his chest. "Complicated," he finished for her. "I know. He likes you too, you know."

He couldn't see her expression, but he heard her sharp gasp. "Has he—"

"No, he hasn't told me, but everyone can see it. He might not even realize he does." He ran a hand over his face. "He would be crazy not to," he finished, nearly inaudibly.

She didn't say anything for a long while, and he opened his eyes to find her looking at him curiously.

"Sorry, I—"

She cut him off abruptly. "Thank you." She laughed. "And I realize that's about the millionth time I've said that tonight, but really… Thank you."

He felt his cheeks warm. "Any time," he replied, unable to repress the small grin that spread to his lips. "Ready to go back?"

She nodded and rose to her feet. He was disappointed when she dropped his hand to brush herself off, but smiled again when she extended her own hand to pull him up and then looped her arm through his as they walked back to the house in easy silence.

Hermione stopped when they reached the door.

"I meant what I said earlier Fred. Thank you. This was… enlightening."

He couldn't help the laugh that burst from him. "That's me, wise beyond my years, offering insight and enlightenment to all who seek it."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Well, way to ruin it." She gave his arm a squeeze. "Goodnight, Fred, O' Wise One." He chuckled again and opened the door for her, letting his gaze linger on her face as she brushed past him and towards the stairs. At Ginny's door, she gave him one last grateful look before slipping inside. He took a deep breath to slow his heart.

* * *

Hermione settled herself in bed and tucked the covers under her chin.

_Enlightening? What kind of idiotic word was that?_

She huffed at herself and then let her mind wander.

She'd always had her suspicions that Ron fancied her, but hearing some sort of confirmation from Fred had made her heart leap with joy.

However, she also realized something else: Despite their years long friendship, Ron had never really shown her the sort of compassion and willingness to just _listen_ and be present as Fred had tonight.

She thought again back to first year, how truly upset and heartbroken she'd been when she'd heard Ron talking about her to Harry. And how consistently he mocked her for her dedication to school.

She remembered how cruel he'd been to her before the Yule Ball and how she let him ruin a perfectly good night. She had thought a few times that she deserved better than just waiting around for him. Someone who listened to her intently and made her laugh, like—

At that, she guiltily shook the thoughts out of her head.

Ron was her best friend.

And he could be incredibly sweet and fiercely protective when it came to people cared about and that was what she liked so much about him. She thought again of when they danced at the wedding and how jealous he had gotten around Viktor and smiled to herself. She let this picture lull her into a peaceful sleep and refused to let her thoughts roam.

* * *

Fred threw himself carelessly onto his bed, not bothering to get under the covers.

He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly.

"Shut up, there's a bathroom for that," George mumbled sleepily.

Fred shot him an angry look, knowing he couldn't see it, and turned towards the wall.

He tried to calm the thoughts racing through his mind and sort through them, one by one.

He didn't remember when exactly he started to feel this way about her.

What he remembered was when he was in his fourth year, hearing Malfoy call her a mudblood and how it made his blood boil to the point of needing to _physically_ attack the little wanker.

He remembered how her scent lingered in his nose the first time she stayed at the Burrow, and how panicked and guilty he was when recognized that scent in sixth year when they brewed amortentia in potions class.

He remembered smiling when she tried to be discreet about finding the kitchens, presumably to talk to the house elves about demanding fair compensation.

He thought of how Hermione was kind to everyone; how she tried to be kind to that despicable Kreacher in the Black family house, how she got onto them for trying to test their products on unsuspecting first years, and how concerned she was about him and George getting kicked out of school when Umbridge was in charge.

He thought of how lovely her laugh sounded. The way her eyes twinkled when she smiled. The way they burned when she was angry.

How her body felt brushing against his.

How she opened up to him tonight and took his hand when she needed the confidence to keep talking.

How she held him close as they walked back to the house from the orchard.

The way she squeezed his arm. He could've sworn she let her touch linger.

Godrick, he was in over his head.


	5. Dreaming

_Her heart was pounding in her chest. She fought the urge to wipe her hands on her gown. Glancing down at herself, she smiled. The blue dress really had been the best choice. The way the light reflected off the shimmery, periwinkle fabric made her feel dazzling. It was a new feeling. She quite enjoyed it, she decided. She beamed as she descended the grand staircase and made her way towards Ron._

_Ron? Where was Viktor? She furrowed her brow, but he didn't seem to notice. He grinned at her and offered his hand._

_"You look beautiful," he whispered. Her confusion melted away and was replaced_ _by butterflies. Ron led her into the ballroom where the festivities were already in full swing. They spun their way to the center of the dance floor, where she felt his hand warm_ _against her side. To her right, she saw Harry dancing with Ginny. Ron beamed down at her and she thought everything was as it should be. Hermione closed her eyes and let herself be swept up in the music. She squeezed Ron's arm and he leaned into her. She rested her chin on his shoulder as he spoke softly by her ear._

_"What was that?" She could barely hear herself speaking over the band._

_"Do you want some company?" She felt herself frown. His voice rang differently in her ears all of the sudden._

_"I don't know what you mean," she replied, but his tone had shivers running up her spine. The music played on, but it seemed further away. She gripped him tighter against her._

_"You don't know? How very un-Hermione of you." His words tickled her brain, but she wasn't sure why. At her silence, he continued. "You can talk to me." He brushed a knuckle across her cheek, setting her heart on fire, as he pulled away from her and Hermione realized where she'd heard those words before._

_"Don't look at me," she whispered, voice quavering._

_"Whatever you need," he responded. She slowly opened her eyes._

_Fred._

Hermione woke with a start, sucking in a sharp breath as reality crashed down on her. Harry and Ron were gone. She didn't know where. She was alone.

She mentally shook herself. Not alone. The boys were alone. _Her_ boys. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed tears to fall. If only to lessen the ache in her chest. But of course none came.

She balled the bed sheets in her fists with frustration, then sighed shakily and smoothed them back out. She replayed the bizarre dream in her head.

It wasn't the first time she'd dreamt of her and Ron dancing at the Yule Ball. Those dreams actually came quite frequently and she always enjoyed them. They always felt so real, and with this one in particular she was able to take their dance from the wedding and put it into new context.

But the ending?

_Do you want some company?_

_How very un-Hermione of you._

Those were things Fred had said to her last night. It was completely rational, she decided, for her to have dreamt of Fred. They _did_, after all, have a meaningful conversation last night, and the fact that he replaced Ron as her dance partner was simply because the dancing had represented emotional intimacy, and she _had_ opened up to him a bit last night.

That's all it was!

So why did it feel like she was trying to convince herself?

She shook her head and scolded herself and she didn't let herself think about the fact that she didn't have an explanation for why her immediate reaction upon hearing his voice was to hold him tighter. Or why, when she realized why those words were so familiar, her heart fluttered in her chest like a swarm of pixies. Why she couldn't breathe when she opened her eyes and met his own.

_Whatever you need._

She lifted a trembling hand to her forehead.

She _needed_ to find the boys. She _needed_ to get out of this house. Not even two weeks had passed and she was pretty sure she was going mad.

She _needed_ to tell Ron that she liked him, only him, before the war came to a head.

She raked her hand down her face. It was because she was missing the boys. That's all. She liked Ron and he liked her and nothing else mattered.

She bit her lip. Then shook her head.

Armed with a steely resolve, she stubbornly shut all thoughts of weird, perspective-altering dreams out of her mind, pulled herself out of bed, and set herself to her horcrux studies.

* * *

The day had come and gone, uneventfully, with Hermione only coming out for breakfast and bathroom breaks. She felt absolutely useless with no new information on the horcruxes and no way to contact or find the boys without risking Voldemort finding them.

She felt like crying, but all she could do was dig her nails into her palms, grit her teeth and carry on. She didn't even realize it had gotten dark until Ginny lightly tapped on the closed door.

"Hermione?" Her voice was muffled by the worn wood. "Can I come in?"

Hermione nodded, not taking her eyes from her book. "I can't hear nodding," Ginny said, a smile evident in her voice.

In spite of her somber mood, Hermione laughed at how well the younger witch knew her. "Yes, Gin, of course you can come in, this is your bedroom."

The door creaked open. "It's really late, I think you ought to get some rest." Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione pulled her lower lip between her teeth and chewed at a piece of loose skin, still not looking up from her place in the book. Ginny cleared her throat and Hermione finally glanced up at her. "I know, I'm almost finished with this section," she promised.

"What are you even looking at?" Ginny leaned over to look at what Hermione was reading. "_Soulmates and the Science of Romance_." She chuckled. "Trying to spice up your love life?"

Hermione gave the Weasley girl a pointed glance and snapped the book closed. "I'm just interested in the idea of soulmates, that's all." It wasn't a lie. She'd often wondered if there was one person meant for everyone in the world. She wasn't really keen on the idea, however. Truthfully, she was trying to find anything that had to do with soul-splitting, in hopes she could find a way to locate the other horcruxes. If she couldn't help the boys find them, she could at least try to hunt them down herself.

Ginny thought for a moment, but seemed placated by her answer. "Well, I'm going to go to bed." The witch hesitated as she stepped away. "Will you lay with me 'til I fall asleep?" She spoke quietly, as if embarrassed to ask. Hermione gave her a soft smile.

"Of course I will."

She climbed into Ginny's bed next to her and stroked her smooth, red hair until her breaths were deep and even. Hermione understood Ginny's desire for companionship and was glad to provide it. Glancing at the peaceful features of the slumbering witch beside her, she felt her heart soften with sisterly affection. Hermione wished she was as strong as Ginny. Unafraid to express her emotions. Unafraid to be human. She silently cursed herself for forcing herself to be so closed off, as if showing emotions was a weakness. Although, she supposed, on some level, it would be for her. She tried once more to get tears to fall, but her dam held, strong as ever.

Frustration and anger sat where sadness should be. And worry. Always worry.

She stole another glance at Ginny's sleeping form and carefully slid away into her own bed. She screwed her eyes shut and willed her racing mind to slow down.

But still it ran.

She wasn't sure how long she laid there. The moon was high and full when she opened her eyes. Her forehead was slick with sweat and hair clung to her face. She dug her fingers into her palms in aggravation and felt the skin snap under her fingernails. She shot a bitter stare at the moon that kept burning through her eyelids every time she closed her eyes. Every breath felt like it might crack her ribs, but she still couldn't force enough air into her lungs.

Finally, she gave up and climbed out of bed with an exasperated sigh. Grabbing her wand, she once again pushed light into a weak _Lumos_ and snuck downstairs.

She ignored her strange disappointment when she saw she was alone in the kitchen and pulled herself up to sit on the counter and gaze out of the window.

And when she returned to bed in the wee hours of the morning, the walls in the room had not retreated.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione shielded her eyes against the sun glaring at her through the window. Her mind was groggy from a sleepless night and she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and mope, but there was research to be done.

She sat for ages, pouring over everything she could get her hands on, pausing only to entertain light conversation offered by Ginny every couple hours.

Counting once more in her head, only four horcruxes should be left: the diary and the ring had already been destroyed and she was positive Nagini would be a horcrux as well. That left three unknowns. Harry had told her Dumbledore suspected they'd be Founders' items.

Pulling her hands through her hair, Hermione let out a groan and dropped her head into her arms.

_The diary._

_The ring._

_The locket._

_The cup?_

_A Ravenclaw or Gryffindor artifact?_

_Nagini_.

"Okay," she whispered to herself. "That's six." Tapping her fingers on the desk she sat at, she began rattling off facts to herself. "Hufflepuff's cup. Castle? Maybe. R.A.B. Locket. A Gryffindor artifact? I doubt it. The sword perhaps? No, but that wouldn't make sense… A Ravenclaw artifact then? Mhmm…"

With a sigh, Hermione sat back up and gasped when she saw an amused-looking Fred standing in the doorway.

"So," he started. "How are you?"

She scowled at him and stalked across the room to shut the door in his face. His laughter resounded around the room, however, and Hermione found herself giggling along with him and shaking her head at his retreating footsteps.

* * *

It was adorable really.

He'd walked past the room with no intention of stopping. She'd seemed quite preoccupied and he didn't want to bother her. But he saw her hair spread out across the desk, head resting on her arms, and she was _talking _to herself. Frankly, it sounded like gibberish to him, but he couldn't help standing and watching her for just a moment.

Last night he almost stole away to the kitchen again, to see if she'd be there, but he thought it best to not make it a habit. And, for all he knew, she would rather be alone anyways.

He just couldn't deny himself a short few seconds in her presence.

And then she sat up. And he _had _to tease her when he saw the shock on her face.

"So… How are you?" He smirked and cocked an eyebrow, resting his shoulder on the door frame.

She glowered at him and his smile widened as she stomped her way to the door and slammed it in his face. He chuckled as he walked away, and he swore he could hear her laughing along with him.

* * *

The late afternoon rolled into dusk, which dwindled into darkness. Before she knew it, midnight had come and gone and she slid into bed long after Ginny had fallen into a restless sleep. Oh, how she envied her.

She gave up on the idea of a good night's rest— or even a night's rest— quite quickly.

The longer she laid there, the more the sheets began to feel like sandpaper, and each time she shifted, the bed creaked so loudly beneath her, she could swear it was alive and simply complaining that she wouldn't sit still.

So, once again, she stole away to the kitchen and hauled herself up onto the counter to watch the stars pass by the window.

* * *

That was how Fred found her. Studying the stars, head leaned against the glass.

"Mind if I join you?" He chuckled when she jumped, but his playful words got caught in his throat at the lazy smile that spread slowly across her face. She tilted her head at him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Her voice was soft and warmed his skin.

He cleared his throat. "As usual, I guess," he said, shrugging sheepishly. "You wanna...?" He gestured to the door with his chin and raised an eyebrow. Her smile widened as she nodded and he could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat.

* * *

She flinched guiltily when her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice. But she couldn't repress the grin that spread to her cheeks when she turned to look at him.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

When she was in year five, she was best friends with a little boy named Nicholas. They always played together on the playground and one day they were playing knights and princesses. He'd insisted on being her knight (_"But Nicholas," she'd huffed, "girls can be knights too!"_) and held her hand as they ran from the dragon who was chasing them from the castle. That night, she'd dreamt of them getting married and the next two weeks, she couldn't meet his eyes without blushing.

But eventually, he was just Nicholas again.

She figured that's what was happening with Fred. She didn't need to feel guilty for a teeny-tiny crush that had resulted from a weird dream.

Fred cleared his throat. "As usual, I guess." He shrugged and looked down at his feet. She studied his face. A beat of silence passed before he looked back up. "You wanna...?" He pointed his chin towards the door and she felt her smile grow wider. She tried not to nod too eagerly.

Hermione reached out to him and he picked his way through the dark kitchen to help her down. He frowned at her proffered hand and took a deep breath. She was about to ask him what was wrong when suddenly his strong hands were at her hips.

A surprised gasp slipped past her lips. She gripped his shoulders to keep herself from falling against his chest as he gently lifted her off the counter and placed her on the ground. Looking up at his face, she felt her neck flush when he smiled down at her with twinkling eyes before stepping away. Cold air replaced his touch and she found herself wishing he'd stayed a moment more.

He offered her his arm, much like she had a few nights before. She warmed at the memory. He led her to the door and they walked out into the brisk autumn air together once more.


	6. Bearer of Bad News

The next morning, Hermione was more at ease than she had been in awhile. Her and Fred had spent most of the night silently enjoying each other's company and she found his easy-going and kindhearted disposition to be better than any sleeping pills or potions when it came to the bout of insomnia she'd been having. Though she still woke before the sun, she felt better rested than she had since the wedding. Stretching her arms up over her head, she inhaled the still morning air and listened for any activity downstairs. Typically, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the only ones up at this hour, so she was surprised, to hear a new, but familiar, voice speaking with Mr. Weasley, in place of the usual sounds of breakfast being made and hushed conversations between the Weasley parents.

Pulling herself up so not to wake Ginny, she made her way downstairs, and overheard Arthur Weasley in the middle of a conversation with another man.

"...searched the place from top to bottom and found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close," Arthur said. She assumed they were speaking about the Death Eater wedding crashers.

"Fortunately, only Order members knew of his presence, so he, Ron, and Hermione are safe as they can be at a time like this... I hope."

It took Hermione only a second to place the voice.

"Well, actually," Arthur started.

She rounded the corner fully and cleared her throat. The room was empty aside from the two men at the center of it.

"Hermione?"

"Hello Professor." Hermione nodded curtly at her old school teacher.

"Hermione has been staying with us, Remus," Mr. Weasley finished.

"I assumed you'd be with Harry and Ron."

Hermione's cheeks burned with something she suspected to be shame or sadness, but it quickly turned to anger.

"I assumed I would be with them as well, but unfortunately, we got separated at the wedding and they had to apparate before I could get to them, what with all of the Death Eaters showing up at the reception." She bit the words out one by one, but couldn't stop the venom that slipped through her teeth. She knew it was irrational, but seeing Lupin here, after what happened at the wedding, she felt the need to _blame_ someone. The Order was supposed to protect them, protect Harry and Ron. And now Lupin was here instead of looking for them. Now Hermione was stuck with no way to find them without putting them in more danger. And her patience was wearing thin.

Lupin studied her for moment before replying. "It was lucky Shacklebolt's patronus got there when it did, or we could've _all_ been in much bigger trouble. We are lucky Harry managed to get away, although I'm sorry you are stuck here, out of harm's way, unlike Harry and Ron." He gave her a pointed look, and she felt small under his gaze, as if he knew what she had been thinking.

"Perhaps, Hermione, you'd like to join Molly outside for tea. It's a beautiful morning," Arthur supplied.

Just as she was about to argue, Remus spoke. "Actually, I think it's important Hermione hears this. And I doubt she'll agree to go anyways, am I correct?" He looked at her again.

"You are, Remus." She set her jaw stubbornly and crossed her arms.

Arthur sighed and gestured to the dining table. "I suppose we should sit then."

As soon as they had settled, Hermione rushed to speak, but quickly fell silent when Lupin spoke. "Is it true, Arthur? Ministry and Death Eaters alike?"

The color drained from her face. "You mean _Ministry workers_ attacked us at the wedding?" Her voice sounded shrill in her ears.

"I'm afraid so," Arthur replied. "I heard they tortured Scrimgeour in an attempt to give up Harry's whereabouts."

Hermione's eyes bounced back and forth between the two men and they spoke.

"And?"

"If it's true, he didn't give Harry away," he said solemnly.

Remus exhaled a heavy sigh. "Small victories, I suppose." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Other Order members were targeted as well."

Hermione opened her mouth to interject.

"No, no deaths," he said quickly, answering her question. The vise around her heart loosened by a hair. "They were rough though. They burned down some houses, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonk's family..." he trailed off.

"Are they alright?" Hermione asked, quietly.

He reached out and briefly put a comforting hand over hers. "They're all right. Shaken, but alright."

Her relief only lasted for a moment. "Don't they have protective charms? How could the Death Eaters have gotten through?"

Arthur spoke now. "They've got the full power of the Ministry behind them, Hermione. When they came, they got through every defensive spell we cast against them and they didn't try to hide why they'd come."

Hermione's brows furrow in anger. "And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry's whereabouts out of people?"

Mr. Weasley frowned. "Have you not seen the papers?" He rose from his seat and retrieved a newspaper from the counter, smoothing it out across the table. Upon seeing the front page, she saw red.

"They're saying he was involved in Dumbledore's death? But it was Snape!" Slowly the anger dissipated into something far more uncomfortable. Hermione felt lightheaded and nauseous. How much had she missed while she was wallowing in self-pity? How much had passed her by while she was self-soothing in Fred's company?

"How could this happen?" _How could I let this happen?_

Both men looked at her solemnly. "They control the media, I'm afraid," Arthur said.

"But surely people realize what's going on?"

"Yes, people have their suspicions but nobody knows who to trust, and they're afraid to speak out and put their families in danger if they're correct." Mr. Weasley clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times before speaking again. "He's created confusion and fear, allowing him to keep moving in the shadows."

Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "And by saying Harry had a hand in Dumbledore's death, people don't even know if they can trust him now," she whispered.

Lupin nodded. "And there's something else I have to tell you Hermione."

She groaned. _What else could possibly go wrong?_

"Look at page two."

Hermione scanned the page, feeling her temper and despair rising in equal measure with each word. When she had seen enough, she shoved the paper roughly away from her, seething.

There was no use in asking why. She knew why.

"He's trying to cleanse the bloodlines of Muggle-borns," she said.

Again, both men only looked at her sympathetically. It really only made her angrier. She slammed her fist on the table, noticing their flinches. "I can't believe people are letting this happen!"

But she could believe it. Honestly, she could. No one cared about anyone but themselves and she was furious at the situation, but more so at herself for letting herself live outside of reality these past few days.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I wish I'd come bearing better news. All we can do now is keep fighting and we'll see the end of this war soon..." Lupin paused and grimaced. "Hopefully." He rose from his chair, Arthur rising with him.

"Sorry to pop in so early, Arthur, but I had to catch you before you went into work."

"It was no trouble, Remus, thank you for keeping us in the loop."

"And Hermione," Lupin said, turning to her, "I know I don't have to tell you, but if there's anything Dumbledore's told you three to do, please, we need you right now." She didn't meet his eyes, and refused to answer his unspoken question. _Did Dumbledore leave you a mission?_

"Goodbye, Remus. Say hello to Tonks for me."

His face paled, but he said nothing more before departing.

* * *

Fred woke as the bottom rays of the sun stretched out over the horizon. He smiled softly to himself, recalling the night before and threw his covers off himself. He glanced over at his twin, who was still asleep, and promptly chucked his pillow at him.

George merely groaned and pushed the pillow on the floor. Fred shook his head, chuckling to himself, and climbed out of bed, scooping up his pillow on the way to the door and tossing it back on the bed.

He had just passed Ginny's room when Hermione crashed into him. Instinctively, his hands flew out to steady her.

"Careful there, you're gonna give yourself a concussion if you keep that up," he laughed.

She looked up at him through a curtain of hair and his eyes widened at the sight of her reddened face and the fury in her eyes.

"Woah, Hermione? Are you alright?" he asked. Concern fell like lead in the pit of his stomach.

"No," she replied. She roughly brushed his hands off of her and slipped back into Ginny's room.

He stood there dumbstruck, numb.

Did he say something wrong? He thought back to last night and wondered if it was something he had done that had upset her. What could've possibly happened to make her so angry?

Someone smacked the back of his head, snapping him out of his stupor.

"Get a move on then, you're not downstairs yet!" His twin laughed and scrambled down the stairs in front of him.

Fred glanced back to where Hermione had just gone into the bedroom. "Yeah... I'm coming."

* * *

**A/N: It has literally been so long since I've updated, I hope everyone is doing well. So sorry for the long break, I have NOT been inspired. I'll try to update more frequently. **

**A/N 2: Also, in**** the conversation with Hermione, Lupin, and Arthur, parts of the dialogue are pulled from Chapter 11 in DH. I made a whole timeline showing where the events of the fic would fit into the actual story, so i'm trying to keep a sense of realism here**


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